“If you really want an answer to that, take me home and I’ll show you.”
Even over the music, she could hear his deep, throaty groan.
“I’m wearing the wrong kind of pants for you to say shit like that to me in public, woman.”
She shrugged, pressing herself against the semi-hard-on she could feel at her belly.
“Take me home and the only thing you’ll have to worry about is how quickly I can get you out of those offending pants.”
He didn’t respond, simply grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the table to get her clutch and say their goodbyes to their friends. As they turned to walk away, she could hear Cree saying, “Don’t hurt nothin’.”
Neither of them stopped as the snickers from their friends became full-on howling. With their arms looped around each other’s waists, they headed for the valet with a singular purpose in mind: getting back to the house as soon and safely as possible.
Chapter 17
Michael pulled into the garage as he had a million times since he’d purchased this house ten years ago. Yet tonight, somehow everything seemed new. He was giddy, as evidenced by the smile he had to keep fighting so he wouldn’t look like a high schooler so happy to get some he couldn’t keep his chill.
Well, he was happy at the potential. He hadn’t made it to Philly in… a while for one of his discreet hookups. They’d kind of lost their draw about six months ago. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t attach it to any particular occurrence. All he knew was that it had become more of an effort to go to Philadelphia for sex than it had in the past, and his trips had become fewer and fewer until they’d altogether stopped.
He helped Vanessa out of the car and held the door open so she could enter the mudroom. He followed behind her, unknotting his tie and shoving his hands in his pockets as they stopped in the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” she asked, her eyes filled with concern. “If you’ve changed your mind, it’s okay.”
“Changed my mind?” His bark turned into full-on laughter. “I’m so wound up and ready to be with you I’m standing in the middleof my kitchen with my hands shoved in my pockets to keep from mauling you.”
She shrugged. “I thought that’s the reason we came back here in the first place.”
“It is,” he replied. “I just don’t want you to think that’s all I care about. I like sex as much as the next person. I just don’t want you to think that’s all I want.”
She dropped her clutch on the counter and unbuttoned her jacket, letting it slip elegantly from her shoulders before she threw it on the counter next to her purse.
“What if I’m okay with you only wanting sex from me?” she asked quietly as she stepped backward, heading toward the door that separated the kitchen from the living room.
When she was on the other side, making her way to the back of the couch, she leaned against it, stepping out of one pointed stiletto and then the other.
“Would you stop holding back if I told you I’m okay with whatever you have in mind tonight?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he removed his jacket and threw it on the nearest level surface he could find. Next, his tie followed, and then his cuff links. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and leaving the flaps to hang open.
He stepped closer to her, wrapping his fingers around the back of her neck as his thumb stroked against the curve of her jaw.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you.”
His voice was almost unrecognizable to his own ears. He’d barely touched her, and already his skin was tight and hot as his body responded to just the idea of having her again.
“I knew I was dead wrong. I knew I’d come there for a totally different reason. Only once I saw you in that sweater dress and those boots, watching the way you moved, all I wantedwas to know what it was like to touch you, have you any way I wanted you.”
It was true, and because he didn’t have words that could truly express the intensity of his need that day and every day since, he kissed her, pressing so hard against her lips he was certain the delicate flesh would bruise later.
His fingers found the clasp to her pants. He made quick work of unzipping them, stepping away from her briefly to pull them down her legs, leaving a trail of kisses down her flesh as he disposed of the offending garment.
When he stood up, he watched her reach for the side zipper of her bustier. He put his hand on top of hers to stop her, looking down at the tempting silhouette it provided.
“Don’t,” he ground out. “Leave it on.”
She dropped her hand, standing still before him. He could see the pulse at the base of her throat jump. He traced his thumb there, pressing slightly to feel it throb against his digit.
“Is this a sign of nervousness or excitement?”
